I send my mother 1.5 million pesos monthly for my postpartum wife. Coming home early, I found my wife eating spoiled rice with fish heads. Furious, I confronted my mom, who sneered, “She doesn’t deserve better.” Then, I checked the family safe and found…

over the crib and scooped my son into my arms. He weighed practically nothing. His tiny fists beat weakly against my collarbone, his face red with a hunger that his mother’s body was being systematically deprived of the ability to satisfy. Holding him, a brutal, icy epiphany crystallized in my mind.

A home does not require raised fists or shattered continue reading …